


Walpurgisnacht

by Happy_Cow



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Human Rey (Star Wars), Leashes, Master/Pet, Monsterfucking, Vampire Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Cow/pseuds/Happy_Cow
Summary: She had no scales, no pelt, no wings, no claws, and no tail. Her canines were not very sharp, her nose was not very strong, and she could not see very well in the dark. This was Rey, the last human on earth.





	1. Rey the Human

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!! I wondered whether to do an Undertale-situation, but I figure this way is more extreme.

Light danced in the valley below, but even from here, she might as well have been on the moon...

Finn was damn adamant. “There’d be too many weres,” he had insisted. “No, I can’t —.” She could’ve worn a wolf pelt. “This isn’t just a trip to town, Rey. You could stuff fur in your pockets or roll yourself in wolf piss — it won’t work here. The streets will be packed, like, body-to-body.” He rubbed his massive brown paws together, his canines flashing with every word.

She rolled her eyes. Finn made the night sound like a violent group orgy, but even from here she could see little weres walking around with their parents this early. Finn came from a hard and violent pack, and he clearly misread this new town. Rey searched for his stupid pelt through the telescope, imagining him paling around with Lightning Poe and Rose the Friendly Dragon. “Stupid Finn,” she muttered. “Fuck you.”

Rey was small, and she had brown hair that she wore in two buns. She had no scales, no pelt, no wings, no claws, and no tail. Her canines were not very sharp, her nose was not very strong, and she could not see very well in the dark. What she did have were a faded bomber jacket with patches on it, cargo pants with many pockets and straps for storing things, and steel-tipped boots with laces. Her ‘pelt’ was a layer of duct-tape that she wound over her arms, legs, and neck.

Rey picked at her meal — a can of stewed mystery meat that Finn lent her — and stabbed at the brown goop as though Finn could feel it. “I could be dressed as a fucking ghost and eating nougats if it weren’t for you and your stupid... sex fantasies.” She shoveled some meat into her mouth and made a face. It tasted like something B.B. VIII would enjoy, but otherwise stuck to her gums. Reluctantly, she choked it down in order to have something in her stomach.

Poe and Rose weren’t even Finn’s first friend. They just latched onto him because of how big and good at fighting he was. Poe and Rose can fucking fly; they had nothing in common with Finn anyways! It just made Rey’s blood boil... They were all probably doing gross were-things right now, like smelling each other’s buttholes or pack-bonding games to establish dominance. Yeah, she didn’t even need Finn nor his permission to just walk around town tonight.

She could see, through the lens, couples walking side by side, holding hands. Finn called it ‘pair-bonding’, when a female smells so nice that the male decides to stick with her forever, to make cubs or pups or kits. It was very, very stupid. Books from the Old World were always about falling in love by knowing someone, not by smelling their B.O...

Her insides twisted painfully; she decided, instead, that maybe she didn’t want to visit the town.

Finn would tell her about it anyways, and he promised to bring her candy.

Static ran along her back. Rey went very, very still. Years and years of living like a prey animal had given her an advanced sense of forewarning. Slowly, she turned the eye of the telescope to the outskirts of the valley. Underneath the light of the moon, shadows moved beneath the cover of pines.

Images superimposed themselves over her vision: children slaughtered, houses set aflame, Finn laying dead on the ground, and lastly Rey fleeing into the woods to die alone of despair. The panic of incoming death set her heart to a brutal pace, as it always will, but Rey was older and stronger now, and her mind laid out one well-lit path before her. After picking up and collapsing her telescope, she ran towards the lights that moved in the valley below.

It took a minute. At first, the weres and their cubs regarded her screaming as the ravings of some strange, mentally unwell woman. The elderly raised their heads at her — noses raised, ears perked — but any minute and they’d have a bigger conundrum to ponder.

A loudspeaker began to scream orders over their heads: because of the early warning, the faster and keener races scented the first wave incoming. The children and elderly disappeared indoors. Above anything else, Rey wanted to find Finn so that she would know he was safe. Evil bled into the streets.

Just as the weres had races, the vampires too had their variety based on caste and place of origin. The ones with skull-white faces and hollow eye sockets were the most common, said Finn. These were called Stormtroopers. Their top fangs grew infinitely, like that of rodents, and they had to be filed and ground down to keep from stabbing them through their rigid chest-plate.

To bite things was a massive effort with worthwhile results; the Stormtrooper grabs its prey in its claws, unhinges its jaw, and bites down hard enough to cleave bone. The trick, for Rey, was to wait for them to open their mouth, then drive a stake through the back of their throat. If she had a tail, she could trip Stormtroopers; if she had a pelt, she wouldn’t have to duct tape her skin or patch up her jacket every time they laid claws on her. If if if. A comet of fire swooped down to pick up a vampire and smash it into the fountain in the square. Water vomited onto the pavement and splashed over her boots.

“Fucking Poe,” she spat.

Now that her one job was done, Rey looked for someplace to hide. Her job was finished; a town full of armed and informed weres and other didn’t need one measly human running underfoot and stinking up the place. In times like this, Finn now had a better chance of surviving than she did.

A resounding crash shook her senses. It took a second for her to register what her eyes saw: cinders flickered from within a darkened bakery. She stepped over the broken storefront window. A tan, dark-haired man lay inside the store in a debris field, groaning, and Rey recognized him to be Poe. He was still alive at least, but what could do this to him?

At the opposite end of the plaza, a tall, black creature loomed. At first she believed it to be some unknown monster, but the wind ruffled through it, revealing a long, black cloak. Stormtroopers darted past it in the pursuit of prey, dipping their heads like scared dogs before a wolf. It was looking right at her. The creature flicked its arm and a longsword flew to its side, the length glistening red as it dripped blood onto the paved walkway.

— RUN, RUN screamed every fiber of her body, but she could not move nor look away. She was staring at her own Death, at a true vampire. It was the single idea of being cut down like an animal that somewhat unfroze her, that forced at least her throat to move.

“Monster,” she spat, hoarse.

It tilted its head. The sword tilted, then flew towards Poe Dameron’s heart, but Rey caught it by the hilt. She bit back a cry — sharkskin covered the hilt. Microscopic hooks tore at the pad of her fingers and the webbing between her thumb and pointer. The sword shuddered and bucked like a thing possessed, as beholding of its bloodthirsty Master.

A low, altered voice issued from its helmet: “Let go.”

Rey grit her teeth and shook her head.

The figure approached her from behind. God it must’ve been two feet taller than her; why hadn’t it killed her yet? “I command you to let go,” it said, its voice taking a hard edge.

All at once, she felt lightheaded. Images superimposed over her vision: the skin peeling off of her hand and the blighting pain. To Rey, the consequence of letting go burned hotter; pain was temporary, but she could not let Poe die. Finn always said that he and Rose might be the first to accept her; Hell, Poe was married to a human maybe a few hundred years ago.

“... Hm.” The sword pulled away from her hand and retreated to its master’s side. Rey hissed through her teeth at the residual pain. She could still feel the effects of his influence in her, her limbs weighed down as if with lead. She forced her mind to empty as he moved ever closer.

He raised a gloved hand, before gently tugging at the sleeve of her jacket. His finger prodded at the layer of duct tape over her wrist. “... What is this?” he said aloud. “... Did you see our coming, little one?” His hand closed around her wrist, and he squeezed so that bone grated together. Lights flashed in her vision and she screamed.

The sound that she made was familiar to him. “Ah. You’re the one who warned them,” he realized, leaning closer. His voice grew soft, as though he were disclosing a secret. “Are you a seer, little one? Or did someone tell you?” The vampiric races were prone to regular infighting and betrayal; a sort of cold, personal anger began to waft off of him.

Rey tried to imagine a wall or a blockade, but after so many years she only had the vague idea of mental defense and not the practice. Rey leaked like a sieve for this creature and she grieved at every second, while her wrist went numb and remote. He took from her visions of the telescope at her waist, the hillside, Finn, the can of dog food, the vast expanse of empty woodland between that hill and the lights in the valley, it all spilled out of her. Rey forced herself to reach down, to reach for the telescope so that the pain would stop he would see he would let her go.

“... _I see it_,” he breathed, his voice taking the quality of smoke. “I see the island where you keep yourself, all alone.” He shook his head. “What animal are you?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. “Or are you like that thing, some sort of elemental?”

Just as his grip loosened, Rey grabbed the wooden stake at her hip and swung up at his exposed throat. He only just managed to step backwards, so that the stake knocked off-kilter the jaw of his helm. Sputtering noises burst from its audio system; Rey had to kill this creature now, except she had only ever killed Stormtroopers and other wild animals for all these years. Stupid girl.

She fell to her knees on glass for Poe Dameron, and shook him by his shoulders. “Wake up!” she snapped. His head lolled to the side and he made a low sound; what made this worse was the costume he had on, like a fighter-pilot who had forgotten to wear his undershirt. “Poe, wake up!” she sobbed.

Then she fell into the dark.


	2. the Aperitif

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading,, if we all believe enuff then I can get this done-approximate by real Halloween
> 
> Also i shouldve made Poe into the same species Gomez Addams is: 'human-approximate' ;-;

The spell cast over her lifted like a veil. Her chest heaved for air and she coughed herself awake. Her skin felt raw and itchy, and when she looked down, she could see the red nakedness of her own thin limbs. Her clothes were removed, and the duct tape stripped from her body. All that protected her now was a thin, pale shift, from which poked out two button nipples. She couldn’t move her arms nor legs. It was a very good time to panic, so she did.

“**HELLO**!?” she shrieked. “_HELP ME_!” she cried. “_PLEASE LET ME GO_!”

It was a small chamber with stone walls and one wooden door, so it sounded as though she were screaming into her own ears. A gas lamp hovered on the low ceiling, casting the room in a sickly orange light. She sniffled, tears falling from her eyes.

The wooden door swung open, and from its dark recess came a looming shadow. Upon recognition, Rey made a despairing sound; her visitor was Death. He stalked towards her, this living darkness taking up the whole of her vision. He observed her, wordlessly, before setting down the tray he carried onto the table at her bedside. It carried a small and misshapen little green fruit, and a silver knife. He placed his hand beneath the jaw of his helm and pushed it over his face in one practiced motion, revealing himself.

For a stunned moment, Rey’s fear evaporated. Vampires were tall, and often pale, as was this one. This one had wavy, black hair that fell to his broad shoulders. Vampires could be ugly or beautiful, young or old, but this one had a long nose and plush lips. He also had large, dark eyes, that stared blankly into her brown ones.

He set down his helm beside the tray, and picked up the fruit and the little knife. “You’ve awakened,” he prompted, his voice deeper and softer than she expected. Rey knew better than to speak, so she didn’t. “You must be famished, hm?” He cupped the fruit in his right hand and carefully sliced a small wedge from off of the fruit. The flesh was white, and a citric scent filled her nostrils. He took the piece between his fingers and proffered it to her lips, which she reluctantly opened. 

She wasn’t at all hungry, but she was scared. The flesh tasted mostly tart, and the skin chewy; it was a _crabapple_. The familiarity helped to ground her a little, and chewing gave her something else to focus her energy.

“Is it good?” he asked, tilting his head. When she didn’t respond, he cut a sliver for himself, placed it in his mouth. He chewed, grimaced, and spat it straight onto the floor. Like a spoiled pup. “I would not call _that_ edible,” he remarked.

A touch of amusement fluttered beneath her ribs. It frightened her; it occurred to Rey how ignorant she was, in the face of a true predator. Animals don’t attempt to make conversation, animals don’t make little jokes. What bothered her was his ulterior motive, what he expected to gain from parlaying with her rather than just ripping out her throat right here and now. 

“Is the skin too tough?” he asked, his voice lilting. He reached down to rest the back of his hand on her sternum; her pulse raced against his cold skin. His expression was blank. She wasn’t going to _spit_ on the vampire if that’s what he was implying; Rey choked down what remained in her mouth, and it moved like a rock down her esophagus. After a moment, he back away.

“May we talk, little one?” He set down what remained of the crabapple, and the silver knife. “I am called Kylo Ren. What may I call you..?”

When she didn’t answer, he sighed through his nose. A familiar clawing sensation pulsed in the back of her head — “_Rey_,” she blurted out, and the sensation diminished.

“Rey,” he said. “I should’ve placed us in the sitting room... Where do you come from, Miss Rey?”

“The desert,” she said.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Does your desert have a name? A little outpost or camp?”

“I don’t know,” she said. He rifled in her head and she screamed _I don’t know I don’t know_. She gave him coyotes screaming in the dead of night and a scrapyard, discarded cars. No name.

“We are a very long way away from any desert,” he said. “Are you lost, little one? If you showed me where you lived, I can return you to your home.” She shook her head roughly. No home. “Your parents must be worried sick for you.” No parents.

This time he had to cut deeper to dredge up something she’d buried away; a woman ripped from her arms. Chasing after a car until her feet stumbled, throwing her face-first into the sand so that grit filled her mouth. The scent of car exhaust.

A profound sense of sadness fell over her, where nothing mattered. 

The vampire pored through her later childhood, but found nothing of interest to him, so he stopped. 

“... No parents,” he said.

— _Only me_, she thought.

“Only Rey,” he repeated. 

Her vision blurred; the room resolved itself into vague shapes. She could only bare to breath in short gasps, because the wound that he reopened began to hemorrhage. 

Long-suppressed emotions began to surface; Where did they take her mother? Would she ever see her again? Why didn’t she come back?

Her tears burned as they raced down the surface of her skin. 

Something cold touched her cheek. Rey startled; the pad of his thumb ran along the corner of her eye. “That’s enough, pet,” he murmured. “Let the past die behind you.”

The grief stopped and she froze in place, waiting for the threat to pass. He wiped her other eye, before carding his fingers through a strand of her hair.

He opened his hand, and a sliver of tongue slipped out to lick at his thumb. His eyes flickered to her exposed neck, then back to her face, his fingers pressed to his pink mouth. There was something childlike about it, like a were-pup offered maple-flavored jerky. Her body shuddered.

Now she would die like the prey animal she was; it should be a relief, but it doesn’t feel like it.

She sniffled. “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. There was a slight wet sound before he could speak, his eyes averted. “I nneed another ta-taste of you.” His voice rasped low in his chest.

... She stared at him, unwilling to move.

“_Here_, little one,” he said. His palm cupped her head and forced her to look to the far wall. He dragged the tip of his nail across her exposed neck, and she spasmed like a puppet with its wires cut. 

“_No_!” she bit out. Her wrists cut into their bindings. Instinctual terror rippled through her body. 

“Calm-.”

“_No_! _You can’t do this to me_!” she sobbed.

His claws prickled in the back of her head, but she shook it off and began screaming. The noise and the stinging in the back of her throat evicted him mentally, but not physically. He raised his hand to his mouth, watching. A vampire has time in excess, something that Rey’s voice did not have. Her noise diminished to a low, breaking wail that died to nothing.

Rey waited, and waited, until he raised his chin and asked, “Are you finished?” 

Swallowing hurt. It felt like moving a ball of glass down her throat.

“I did not hurt you the first time,” he said, “and it will not hurt the second time, nor the time after... if you are _agreeable_, pet. Will you be agreeable?”

... She coughed, before shaping the words she had in her mouth. His brow knitted together. _Fuck_, _you_, she hissed.

He waited, and waited, until her skin prickled uncomfortably. In one smooth motion, he set upon her. A sweet, clean smell filled her senses. Fingers dug into her cheeks, making her lips pucker obscenely, and he wrenched her head to the side to expose her neck.

Her heart thundered so hard she could feel it in her very fingertips. 

At last, he bit down.

White filled her vision. Her body thrashed but it couldn’t move. The room faded, then refocused in sharp contrast as a thread yanked her back towards the present. A weight settled on top of her; the vampire had her pinned down beneath his body. Something hard pushed against her thin shift, and he began rhythmically thrusting her hard against the table, sending new pain through her. 

He was doing this on purpose; he left her awake so that she could feel the blood pumping through her, and the erection that he rocked against her thin stomach. 

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, and made herself go limp, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much.

He made a low groan that reverberated against her throat. He jerked his hips, his canines digging deep into her neck. She realized she could die right now; if he were to jerk his head, he could rip out her throat. The creature thrust his hips wildly, frantically in pursuit of something until—.

A shudder wracked his body. His weight slackened against her. Fangs retracted from her neck; smooth, warm lips brushed against her skin.

He stepped back. His eyes were half-lidded. Tendrils of dark hair stuck to his pale skin.

Sated, his interest in her was diminished. He picked up the tray and its apple and its knife, before leaving the room. The bonds that held her disappeared, being nothing but ‘magic’ or ‘force’ or what dark arts that drove her people to their extinction. Rey fell to the floor on trembling knees, dumbly amazed that she was still alive.


	3. im not late, youre early

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can see i immerse u into the story by simulating time gaps

“_Kneel_, _pet_,” he said.

His visage wavered before her. He had been gone for so long... She banged on the door and screamed, and scratched at the wood until the splinters dug beneath her nails. 

What was wrong with these creatures?

The weres ate or raped what they killed, but they didn’t play these mind games. 

He stepped forward, his expression a mask, but there was an energy in his posture. “_Kneel_,” he barked, his lip curling just above a fang.

Rey had imagined death so often that it became a destiny to aspire to. She would die as a martyr, as the very last human on earth. Something grand and final would have to happen, maybe the world would end. It seemed obscene now. 

She pushed herself on wobbly feet, her eyes trained on his, before dropping to her knees at his feet. He gazed down at her, as pale as a saint. He raised a gloved fist, then moved his fingers so that a thin, silver chain draped down from his palm. 

Cold threaded around her slender neck.

“_I smell the mess you made_,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Act like a _beast_ and you will be treated as such. _Stand_,” he snapped, yanking upwards.

Rey choked, before a pressure in her knees compelled her to stand upright. He still towered over her, his face mere inches from hers. The last meeting was a ghost of a memory, for in this moment he despised her. “Follow me,” he said, giving the leash a quick tug. 

That evil door swung open of its own accord to let the master out, with Rey stumbling after him. Her bare feet slapped on cold stone. She reached out to feel stone drag along her fingertips.

“I forget you are no better than an animal,” he said. His irritated voice compressed in the tight, dark corridor so that it felt as though he were whispering in her ear. “Should you soil your surroundings or commit yourself to howling again, I will place you in the kennel. _Answer me_.”

She opened her mouth and slammed into a wall. Hissing filled her ears, and her back slammed against the stone. The only sound was her short, terrified breaths, cut shorter by the weight pressing down on her throat. When she tried to push it away, it pushed down harder. Tears filled her eyes. She knew this was how she would die: choked to death in a crypt.

“I didn’t see you!” she blurted out. “And and you didn’t leave a bathroom in there. You didn’t tell me if you’d be back.”

“_Please let me go_,” she begged. “I I’m _dirty_, I’m not safe to drink.”

There was no measure of time.

At last, the weight released her. Rey curled against the wall for support as still oxygen rushed into her with each gasp. She felt lightheaded; little swirls in the darkness appeared in her vision.

Something poked hard against her forehead, and she flinched, curling tighter in a ball to protect herself.

“Don’t move, pet,” he murmured into her ear. Something writhed against her back, and then she was weightless. Startled, Rey pushed beside her and winced at the stinging in her fingertips. The texture was fabric, with something hard and unyielding underneath.

“What did you do?” she asked aloud. 

“Be _silent_,” he ordered.

.

They entered a wide hallway with a vaulted ceiling, lined with alternating windows and curtains. The fat moon lit the hall. She realized, for certain, that Kylo had decided to carry her up the stairwell. He moved without a sound, and Rey took this quiet moment of respite to stare at the moon outside.

They stopped abruptly, and moved to stand before a window. A strange light beneath the moon revealed water in the distance. Rey faltered. Now if she could only have a priest...

She risked a glance up at Kylo, who met her gaze, unblinking. 

After a while, he spoke. “Be. Silent,” he ordered, his voice soft. 

Rey opened her mouth, and a gloved finger touched her lips. He stepped back from her and gave a tug on the silver chain, but it wasn’t as harsh as it was before. Rey followed after him on wobbly legs, but at least the carpet was soft on her feet. The grand doors at the end of the hallway swung open.

“My lord,” declared Kylo, and he fell to his knee in the center of the room. The air had a sickly sweet smell. It was dark; only slivers of moonlight peeled out from the periphery of the curtains that draped the windows. Her eyes could make out the shape of something tall in front of them, before the chain pulled taut and brought her to her knees.

Goosebumps prickled along her skin.

Her spine grew stiff and prickly, and just before she could peel her forehead from off the floor, there came a voice; “_Rise, my apprentice_.” It was a low, rasping voice that seeped into the small bones of her ear.

Kylo launched into his piece; “My lord, I bring before your throne the very female that I spoke of.”

“If she could’ve survived this long,” continued Kylo, “then there must be others. I recommend that we take a party to the South and look for her camp, regardless of its age.”

“_What is the taste of the girl_?”

“Alas, no better than a were,” Kylo declared. “She lived among them for a time and adopted their habits, their hygiene. Only a day passed and the thing had soiled herself and wailed like a bitch in—.”

“Did it not occur to you, Ren, to bring her to me _immediately_?” he croaked. 

A hush settled over the chamber.

Kylo said, “The coven, Hux especially —.”

“Kylo Ren,” it droned, “are you so _weak_ that you cannot brush off the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

“_No_,” cried Kylo Ren, then, “they... they, I —.”

“Bring her to me.”

Rey was allowed to stand to her feet. The shadow in front of her resolved into the shape of a massive throne, with something in it. She stepped away, before the chain pulled taut. Kylo was turned to the throne, but his order compelled her; “_Approach._”

One step swung before the other, dragging her closer and closer to the fetid throne. The stench grew stronger, and stronger, so that she was breathing in that miasma of rot. Now she could make out the lopsided eye sockets, the grin of a blackened jawbone. Her eye took in the dull glint of a rusting band circled around its speckled forehead. Rey wanted to vomit and run very far away.

A large, skeletal hand emerged from the recesses of its cloak, to run down the curve of her cheek, then down her neck where the skin stung all at once. It pulled down the neckline of the shift below her left breast, before resting a sharp, clawed thumb over her heart. 

“My lord,” Kylo began, “this would be our _Eve_. If we could find her a suitable mate-.”

“Be _silent_, Kylo,” it said. She felt the elastic give of her skin, the feel of wrinkled skin against her nipple, and she shut her eyes.

The hand receded, and Rey gasped as though a spell were broken. She fled to Kylo’s side. “Your word is noted,” it sighed, leaning back in its throne. 

“Yes, my lord,” said Kylo, dipping his head.

“Get her _inseminated_ by Walpurgisnacht of the next year,” said the lich, “or else I will take her from you.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Kylo. He turned and Rey followed after him. 

“What have you done?” hissed Rey.

“Be silent.”

“Kylo, what did you mean in there!?” 

The collar tightened around her airway, and his hand wrapped around her arm like a vice. The next door opened into a round, columnal room. Kylo yanked her to the center, and the stone floor beneath them began to ascend rapidly, making Rey stumble. 

The curved wall slid open and Kylo shoved her out.

Weak, she fell onto her hands and knees on the carpet. The room spun. After a moment, Rey gathered her limbs in front of her and _pushed_ herself off of the floor, only to be shoved _flat_ onto her stomach. She couldn’t move. The more she tried, a burning sensation gathered in her joints and the small of her back; she never should have put on the collar. Tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

“What’s wrong, _dearest_?” he hummed. “You had no _shortage_ of exclamations earlier.” The tip of a shiny boot appeared in her peripheral. He only knelt down, but the pressure on her body grew ten-fold. Her lungs emptied out.

A hand combed through her long hair. When his fingers caught in a knot, there would be a slight tug at her scalp, before the tendril flowed smoothly through his fingers. Her skin prickled.

He lowered his face. With his lips at her ear, he whispered, “When you are welcomed within the walls of this coven, you become its guest. You become _mine_.”

She pressed her cheek to the carpet to see him. His eyes were black pits in his head. 

“You will rise when I tell you to. You will speak when I tell you to speak, and silence when I tell you to silence, regardless of the leash. Do you understand? _Speak_,” he said.

The weight on her back lifted, allowing Rey to gasp for air. “... _yes_,” she choked out. 

“_Stand_.”

She pushed herself onto wobbly legs. She could always betray him later, once the spots cleared out of her eyes.


	4. ladyfingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: halloweiner is ded ;-; but i did get candy ;w;

At the end of the room was a row of shelves, which Rey crept towards. Some had thick spines with titles embossed in spidery gold font. Others were yellowed squares wedged between likewise ancient tomes. The latter looked more like the old world literature she dug up, but she doubted that Kylo read New York Times Bestselling romances.

A command entered her conscious, _To_ _me._

She must not have responded fast enough, because the leash tugged at the nape of her neck, once, twice, until at last she was compelled to move. There was a clean, sterile scent to his nest, so unlike the comfy musk of Finn’s place. The walls were red, and the marble floor stuck to her feet.

“_Slow_,” he called to her. “_Here, slothful pet_.” A door to her right clicked open.

To balance out her reluctance, the pull grew stronger; he’d drag her inside by the skin of her nails. The door swung wide open of its own power, and Rey stepped inside. 

There was a shower stall, a sink, a toilet. Impeccably clean. Kylo leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. After shedding the armor, he wore a white shirt and high waisted pants. Rey startled at the mirror in front of the sink; the pale, bleary-eyed girl that stared back at her could’ve been a ghoul. She glanced behind her and the vampire was there, but in the mirror he didn’t exist. 

“All you need is a rosary to clutch at,” he muttered. 

“I-it’s true after all,” Rey replied dumbly. In one fluid motion, he pushed himself off the wall and approached her, crowding her. His hands pushed the sleeves of her shift down her shoulders and she panicked, clutching at her chest.

He became a statue. Rey pushed at his hands, but they wouldn’t move, the flimsy straps of her shift twisted in his still fingers. When she looked into his face, past the dark hair that fell over his eyes, she saw two pits for his eyes. 

His plush mouth opened, and in a low voice, he said, “_You smell like piss_.”

Rey sniffled. “I can - I can undress myself.”

“You would if I ordered you to. You would also sleep in your own filth if I so wished it.”

_— Just eat me already_. Rey wavered on tired feet, before lowering her arms to her sides. She trained her eyes on a corner of black tile, where there appeared to be a white speck on the floor. The fabric rustled past her arms and down her chest, before falling to the floor. The door to the shower opened, and she stepped inside.

The chrome taps waggled, until the shower head sprayed down a freezing torrential rain. Rey cried out in shock. But the spray slowly began to warm, and the water beat against her back pleasantly. She opened her mouth, and when the water filled it, she swirled it appreciatively around her mouth and spat it out. She drank her next mouthful, and her third one, until the leash squeezed once around her windpipe. 

Outside the glass, she could make out the black of his eyes in his pale face. The water grew cold to her skin, even though the taps didn’t move. Rey turned away from him. There was a bar of soap, which she lathered in her stinging hands and against her hair and body. The ‘fur’ from her body had been shaved away and it felt strange; she explored herself as much as her tired hands would allow. She washed her face last, using the soap to wipe away at her cheeks. The spray washed the soap into her eyes and made them sting until she couldn’t open them, when the water finally shut off.

The shower door swung open, releasing the warm air trapped inside.

A hand gripped her shoulder, and gently turned her around, before pressing between her shoulder blades. Rey was terrified, and the soap made tears run down her eyes. She moved forward until her hands pressed against the wall. The surface felt cool against her cheek, and she shivered as her breasts pressed against it as well.

Something soft trailed along her jawline, and down the curve of her throat. She could feel a soft breath against her skin. Her nipples tightened against the cold wall. Her heart raced like a deer fleeing from a hunting were, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

There was a tension, which then became a piercing as he broke her skin. It hurt, yes, but less than before, and Rey knew to go slack and let him feed. In her current state, he would rip out his throat.

The fear receded a little, and became softer at the edges. A firm hand parted her thighs; fingers that weren’t her own ran along her labia. Rey flinched, her forehead bumping the wall. Revulsion threaded through her. He spread her apart, his fingers finding the bud at the apex of her thighs. Strange memories came to the surface of her mind; she was hiding in a basement with her books, waiting for sleep, or for something to kill her and eat her. And she would trap a pillow between her legs and think of a big, Byronic hero to rescue a sad and beautiful little girl. 

— _And she would fuck herself just, like, this, wouldn’t she, Rey_?

Her hips bucked against the intrusion; she was on her tippy-toes, trying to fit him in. Her breasts rubbed against the wall. Rey knew where she was and why she was here, but pleasure came first, she only had very little time left to live. All at once she came undone, groaning, gnashing her teeth, her worn nails scrabbling for a hold that wasn’t there.

A white, pristine towel had wrapped around her body. Not a thought existed in her head, until Kylo returned with a plate of something that smelled good. He sat himself beside her, his eyes lighter in that she could make out a thread of gold in his iris.

“Open your mouth, pet,” he said, and when she did, something hot and salty slipped against her tongue. Fat and gristle, and salt, all the things she needed to survive. He followed it with a sweet, delicate sliver of pale fruit. And he followed it past her throat, unblinking. At a mere glance of the cup of water, he brought it to her lips for her to drink.

He fed her a couple more morsels. At first she ate more out of a sense of obedience, but her stomach shifted and clenched at this rare meal.

“Ky-lo?” she asked, seeking respite. Her voice sounded weak in her ears. All the same, he froze, his fingers in the process of choosing a piece of steak. Was he angry at her? Did he do something wrong? “L... lord, Kylo?”

He glanced at her, and set the plate down, before smoothing his pants with the palms of his hands. “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft.

Rey fished for something to talk to him about. She hadn’t expected an answer. “Have,” she nodded at the row of bookshelves, “have you read, all of those?”

Kylo looked to where she indicated. He gazed pensively at his library, before nodding. “Not many of the ones you enjoy, though,” he said, his mouth twitching.

“Are they all old-world?” 

“‘Old world’? There’s Romanticism, Realism, Modernism, Post-modernism...”

“The weres write,” she said. “The druids write a lot of poetry. Do vampires write?”

“... Not as of late,” he replied, folding his hands together. “I didn’t understand ‘old-world’ until you put it that way... The other races must have reason to write,” he mused.

“Why don’t you have a reflection?”

  


He placed a hand over his mouth. 

“Sorry,” she blurted out. She turned to the bookshelf, that trove of dead and gone history. “Were you there?” she asked. “Before w- before all of the humans went away.” There was no other way to put it diplomatically, but there was no accusation nor spite. Not anymore. She knew that his kind had lots of years to live, like druids or elementals. 

His lips curled in a smile. “Yes.”

“What was it like?” She leaned in her seat, intrigue overpowering the stinging in the side of her neck.

He waved his hand dismissively, but the smile remained plastered to his face. “That’s for after dinner.” He shook his head. 

“... Please, let me go.” He turned to the plate, and he picked up the steak. “You don’t like me,” she said, “human girls eat and pee and shit, and they smell bad.” He proffered the meat to her, but she turned away, as hungry as she was. She had to make him see.

His brow knitted. “Rey,” he said, “it took no small amount of effort to procure this meal for you. A were can live off of days old offal, yet you’ve had a lightly seared steak and a pear. Please, eat.” He tried again, but she pressed her lips together. 

The man sighed. “Silly ... You happen to smell very nice, after a shower.” He leaned in, “And I don’t mind taking you to the bathroom... or feeding you.”

Rey leaned away. “I can do those things on my _own_,” she said. She said something wrong again and he froze. “You were human once, weren’t you? Just let me - let me die with some dignity, or turn me into one of you!” Can he do that? Was that how it worked?

His brow furrowed. “‘Die with dignity’?” He opened his mouth and ran his thumb along the edge of his left fang. “My teeth are not serrated like that of a were’s. The point is sharp enough to pierce through skin, but I won’t maul you.” 

And he added, “There is no dignity in death. Were I to drink from you for that long? First you would feel nauseous, and your body would constrict blood flow to your hands and feet to compensate for what I’m taking. You would grow cold, and pale. The more I drink, the more confused and disoriented you would be. Your struggling weakens, you become complacent. Your breathing shallows, your heart fusillades as the blood pressure in your veins further drops to unacceptable levels. You fall unconscious. You go into shock in my arms, from which there is no recovery; four-fifths of your blood is gone. You’re considerably lighter in my arms, and you are never waking up again, so I drink and drink until you are a withered husk in my mouth.”

The vampire dragged the sliver of meat around the surface of the plate, mopping up sauce, before proffering it to her mouth. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She won’t open her mouth; she knew now that she was no more than a cow or a chicken to him. 

At once he leaped upon her. His weight pressed her flat onto her back. Her hands found her own throat in a small effort to protect herself. Instead, his fingers closed around her cheeks.

Low in his throat, he cooed, “Open your mouth, Rey. You need to eat.” He forced open her lips and the steak squeaked against her teeth. “You need to keep healthy and strong so that I might drink from you. You need to get nice and plump so you can carry pups, my love.”

It wasn’t worth it; he was strong enough to crush her jaw in one hand. Tears in her eyes, she opened her mouth, and the steak slipped in. It tasted like tissue paper, but she gnawed it anyways, avoiding Kylo’s gaze as he retreated to his seat. 

“...Your hand, Rey,” he said.

Rey curled up into herself defensively.

“Show it to me,” he ordered.

Was he going to punish her again? She raised her right hand to him, and he took it in his larger ones, turning her wrist so he could see her palm. His touch ran along the pink, tender skin, making her body tremble. His sword had nearly peeled off her hand, and her knuckles and nails bled from attacking the door for hours upon hours... “You’ve nearly shredded your little paws,” he murmured.

Before she could process what was happening, his lips closed around her index finger. 


	5. breathe for me, sugarcube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is very very late because my head is full of rocks!  
but on the other hand, I think I can make it by hallowiener 2020, when covid mutates enough to raise the dead or w/e.
> 
> This is the end of Part I, and Part II starts this week!!

What is that fetid smell?

“**AWAKEN! _AWAKEN!_**”

The kennel door rattles and shakes. A pale, wide face peers in through the metal grating. Rey shrieks and clings to Mommy for safety, but Mommy snorts and twitches in her sleep. 

Plutt’s horrible moon face breaks out into a grin packed tight with teeth. He could chomp through her bones and suck the marrow out... Mommy said if Rey wasn’t good, then she’d give her to Plutt to eat! 

The door shudders as the key is jammed into the lock, and then it swings open...

Rey presses herself into the brick corner of the kennel and she screams and screams.

.

“Rey, dearest. It is alright, it is not real,” he said. Cold flesh pressed into her hollow cheeks. Wide eyes peered into her own. 

“Breathe for me,” he urged. His mouth puckered and he breathed in, then puffed air over her face. Her aching lungs drew in a shuddering breath. “That’s it,” he said.

“You are easier to read when you are asleep.” The vampire, in the same clothes he wore last night. “I traversed someplace where even you will not go.” He smoothed his hand over her chest, as if he could use his tricks to force her racing heart to calm. 

Rey blinked and wiped away at her eyes, before pushing his hand away. “Stop _touching_ me,” she snapped. “And stop _prying into me_!”

“But I am curious,” he said. He pushed himself off of the bed. Rey shifted herself to a sitting position, only to freeze. There was a warm, wet spot between her thighs and beneath her bottom. Humiliation singed her body.

But the bed’s owner seemed nonplussed. He opened a tall, carved wardrobe, and perused its contents with a raised brow. “The orc,” he said, “_Plutt_. What was your relationship to him?”

Rey grit her teeth. “Didn’t you get enough?”

“_He made you piss my fucking bed_,” he retorted. He reached down and pulled out a thick white towel. “Up, Rey.”

She wasn’t given the choice to hesitate — the leash pulled taut. She was pulled down the hall and into the bathroom. The tiles felt cold on her bare feet. After wetting the towel beneath the sink, he pulled off her shift and knelt down before her. He spread her legs, then pushed the towel between her thighs. 

A _squeak_ escaped her lips.

The treatment was cold, clinical, as though he were wiping down a statue. Rey shifted uncomfortably on her heels, her arms crossed tightly over her small chest. She made the mistake of looking in the mirror and seeing only herself, pawing at her breasts.

“Rey,” he said, glancing up at her. 

Rey waited for another word. None came. The soft cloth provided her with a constant stimulation. That, and his attentive expression made it difficult for her to keep aloof. “_What_,” she blurted out.

He faltered, and the towel fell from his hand. The vampire rose to his full height. His lips were an inch away from her brow. There was a faint, sweet scent to him that made her nose crinkle. Without raising her head, she glanced up at him — the protrusion of his nose, his half-lidded gaze fringed with long eyelashes.

Rey flinched as she felt the tip of his finger drag along her cheek. “A thin veneer of civility is all that prevents _them_ from assaulting my rooms,” Kylo said. “Are you still afraid of being _eaten_, pet?”

Rey took it as a rhetorical question and didn’t answer.

“When your numbers overran the earth,” he said, “the orcess, Phasma, had a tannery. When she was younger, she had laid traps, snares, but as demand grew she would purchase the livestock herself. This wasn’t uncommon among her kind, but her specialty was a bleached, sheer white leather, to match her own unusual coloring.”

“Hux,” he said, his lip twitching, “made a business of collecting _specific_ bloods. Sometimes there was some little novelty of a fallen politician or celebrity. What the market valued most was the blood of youth.”

“_Is that so_,” Rey said, twisting her face away from him.

“Children lured away by his agents,” he said. “Lost or abandoned. Younger vintages fetched a higher price.”

She followed him out of the bathroom, taking mincing steps after his heels. 

She asked, “And what did _you_ do?”

He clucked his tongue. As he approached his wardrobe, the doors swung open. His hands rest on his hips, before he reached in and shook out a thin shift. There were no sleeves; a winding net of white lace rose from the u-neckline, and wrapped around a thin collar that had to be clasped around the wearer’s neck.

Rey gazed dubiously at the chest area. “_You’d_ have better luck filling that out than _me_,” she said, crossing her arms tighter.

Her spine became an iron rod. Rey choked, and sputtered, as her wrists yanked towards the ceiling, forcing her to stand on her toes. Her hands swung down to touch her feet; Rey squeaked as her nose smushed into her knees. Her hands met the floor, but Rey _pushed_, and the muscles in her arms strained with the effort of meager resistance. Her face turned red, and sweat ran cold down her burning chest, until the crown of her head touched the floor. 

Her feet kicked off the floor: a naked handstand. 

Her vision swum. What little fat remained on her body was tugged down by gravity. Bile stung at the back of her throat. The vampire cleared his throat; she couldn’t see his shoes on the floor, so instead, she looked down. 

Kylo glared up at her, his brow furrowed. “_How’d you get up there_?” he asked.

His head was at stomach-level with her. If she could kick, she would knee him in his stupid fat nose. She wished she could kick.

He paced a small circle around her. “You better get down, before you break _alllll_ of your _pretty_ little bones,” he said. 

“Then let me _go_,” she wheezed.

Cold hands wrapped around her chest. His fingertips aligned with the rungs of her rib cage, before hooking on her waist and dragging her down from off the floor. 

Up.

Vertigo seized her. She looked down at the carpeted floor and up at his face as he pulled her to his waist, and became fully aware that if he let go, the impact would break her head or her neck and leave her dead or worse, _paralyzed_, and then he could do whatever he wanted with her. Skin her, drain her, molest her, have her stuffed.

Her hands tangled in his hair, clawed at his shirt, then hooked under his armpits. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

“_Don’t let go_,” she pleaded into his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being rude please don’t drop me! Please, Kylo! _Master_!” 

_— Please don’t let go, oh please don’t break me. I have no wings and I can’t land on my feet; and if they did, my ankles would break._

Kylo hushed into her ear and hugged her tightly, cooing until the blood rushing in her ears overcame his voice.

.

“Beautiful,” he sighed. The collar of the dress clasped behind her neck. Rey shivered at the touch of his hand as it grazed along her exposed back, between her shoulder blades. She wished he wouldn’t touch her, but she knew he didn’t care. 

Nervously, Rey bunched the neckline to her chest, or else the pink of her areola peeked out.

He swallowed audibly. “Yyou’rre so, ss_so_ _petite_,” he muttered. A light touch on her shoulder made the winding straps drag and tighten along her neck. When Rey released her fistful of dress, the neckline settled at a modest cut beneath her sternum. 

Kylo abruptly turned, but not before she caught a glimpse of his lower lip trapped between his teeth. With his back turned to her, there came a sharp click as he swallowed the drool in his mouth. He shook his head sharply and sighed.

It’s horrifying. She was to him what a fresh, rare steak was to Finn and Rose.

“Let us go, pet,” he hummed. When he saw her expression, he smiled warmly; his eyes crinkled at the corner. The leash pulled taut, but she was allowed to hold firm. 

“Where’re we going?” she asked.

“To meet everyone.” He hesitated. “My ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’: Hux, Phasma...”

“They’re real?” she blurted out. Other acceptable exclamations: They’re here? Why are an orc and a lich included in a vampire coven? Why don’t you kill me?

“Are you afraid of being eaten?” he asked.

— _Yes, every day of my life_. (But she did not say this aloud.)

“Oh, _Rey_.” He spread his arms, and compelled her to take one step after the other in her soft, pale slippers. As his body closed in around her, she couldn’t help but compare it to Finn’s embrace. Kylo Ren had no warmth and no scent, no rise and fall of his chest because he would never again need air to breathe. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself in the arms of a freshly dead corpse.

“No more of that,” he said, combing his fingers through her hair. “_No more fear, no more loneliness_.”


	6. frozen hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I dislike the winter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II

_Now_

“Why have you not gotten up?” he asked. Already his tone was annoyed. Which meant punishment, incoming. A little fear sparked in her head, she needed to move. She needed. To move.

But she was not quick enough for his tastes. Electricity threaded into her waxen limbs. Nerves screamed, neurons fired, telling her she was being hurt. She needed to move but only managed to curl into a ball, whimpering.

What was wrong with her? “What is _wrong_ with you?” he parroted. Then, “You had asked me if you would like to go out. Well it has stopped snowing. Unless you have since changed your mind.”

Rey wished he would go away, so that she could return safely back to sleep. She did not know why he wanted her awake. Every day was a new horror. Every day was a sense of dread. It did not matter at all if she was not awake. It was easier when she was asleep, for the both of them.

A sour breath touched her ear. “I told you that I am _full_,” he said.

.

_Then_

Rey had been revealed to the vampire Armitage Hux, and the orcess Phasma. Again, the vampire in grand gestures began to paint this vision of some concealed _Eden_ of humans somewhere in the desert. And he revealed Rey, to be their much-hoped-for _Eve_. Armitage Hux stared cooly at him. He sat in his chair, stare fixated on the girl, before asking for _a_ _taste_.

And the orcess said, _I would not send soldiers out so far without a source of ready meat. The livestock would only carry us halfway and they would be difficult to transport_. _And what will we find at the end?_

_I will go_, said Armitage Hux, _if I could have a taste_. He had a shock of fiery hair, the only color on his person besides the icy blue of his eyes.

And the orcess said, _This is a daunting task that you ask of us. You cannot even give me the population of this human colony. I would not restrain a desperate Stormtrooper, and they have not had a very productive Walpurgisnacht, no thanks to your pet. You expect a number of these humans to live, correct?_

Phasma was tall, taller than any were that Rey had ever seen. Despite the tusks in her mouth, the woman spoke professionally, in a clipped tone. _Will you not let us at least sample her?_ she asked mildly.

As the two creatures stared at her, Rey shrank where she stood, in her pretty pretty dress. And her bare legs began to tremble beneath her. And her breath came in short, panicked gasps.

The vampire Kylo Ren then gripped her shoulders and ushered her out of the chamber, and that was that. Some words were exchanged between the vampires, but Rey was not present enough to hear them. ‘No more fear,’ he had said. He was not to be trusted. Every word out of those plush lips was a lie.

.

_Now_

_She_ _floats_ _in_ and out of consciousness,” he said. 

Another voice, male. “How often have you fed from her?”

“Now and then,” he said lightly. Fingertips grazed her forehead. Soft, cool. “See how she leans into my touch! Her forehead burns, but she shivers. Her body is drenched with sweat. I don’t understand this.”

The other voice was softer, more tremulous than that of her master. “Forgive me, sir, but it has been many years since I have been doctoring —.”

“You may have mentioned so for the last decade, _yes_.”

“— but, humans are fragile, and they do not take well to multiple, subsequent, feedings,” said the doctor. There was a pause, then, “The cold extremities could be anemia.”

“I know anemia,” said the vampire.

“That is good. Alright.”

“So she will need, _iron_,” he said stiffly. “What else?”

“I would say that her immune system is weakened, but, but I would need a sample to determine her white blood cell count.”

“You do not,” said the vampire. “Give me a solution. How do I assist her immune system?”

“... A sample, would help, help me determine exactly what ails her,” the doctor insisted, in an increasingly soft voice.

“I said _no_, Mitaka.”

“But-.”

“You are _pathetic_,” snapped Kylo Ren, his mood _turned_. “I thought you better than the others.”

“S-Sir, forgive me, but I only meant —.”

“Get out.”

“I-“

“I said _get out_,” he snarled. Then, “Turn your eyes _away_ from her, Mitaka! She is not for _you_!”

In a high, reedy voice, the doctor cried, “She is not yours either, Kylo Ren!” 

Hissing rent the air, and then a heavy crash like glass shattering. The sound sent a jolt of adrenaline into her veins something has come to hurt her. Her eyes opened and she bolted upright in the bed. The room spun before her eyes. Her ears rung from the sudden change in pressure.

He stood there, large and unfocused, the monster that haunted her. Rey yelped. As he reached out to her, she threw her fists into his reaching hands and his long and evil face. 

He caught her wrists and Rey screamed, terrified. She tried to pull away but he was stronger. She fell to the bed, exhausted, and she sobbed hysteric tears. She was going to hurt, now. 

.

_Then_

The blight of winter had set upon them. That lake outside of the castle froze into a sheet of ice. Rey, the human girl, had no fur and the drawback of a beating heart. By contrast, Kylo Ren had no fur and no heart and felt nothing at all. He was the superior predator. She realized, within a handful of weeks, that she would die in his hands, whether he liked it or not. Her purpose was to make it as painless as possible. 

Aside from feeding, he had no interest in her. She woke up to a scant meal left by the bedside, and he used his bedchamber as her prison. So she would flush the meals down the toilet and lay in the bed. There was no more endless desire to survive, not in this horrible place, and with that her appetite dwindled to nothing. 

Beneath the castle, the Stormtroopers raped and devoured the oldest or weakest of their catch in the tunnels they dug deep below the earth. The vampires took the healthiest livestock as ‘pets’, in the same way Kylo Ren has done. These they can breed or feed upon at will, or even exchange in case they got bored. These were usually small, frightened nymphs or pretty weres. A dark-haired woman had tried to trade two small girls for Rey, and the thought filled her with such overpowering disgust that she threw up. Kylo did not visit her for a full week, and has since never introduced her to any other vampires.

The clothes he cared to give her were soft and flimsy, and they were not magicked in a way to keep her comfortable. The only place that could be warm was the bed and the shower. She bled only for him.

This peace lasted for countless days. In bed she dreamt of the lights in the valley below, of the Winter Solstice, of her friends Finn and Poe Dameron and Rose the Dragon, the friends she made and the ones she had yet to meet. And she tasted peppermint bark and hot chocolate, even after flushing down slimy peaches from a can or an ancient slab of cheese. And she dreamt of winter stew with venison and root vegetables, and colorful lights strung up on flagpoles, and Finn’s thick winter coat.

Until one day, she stepped out of the bathroom, and there he stood. The vampire, in his high-waisted pants and white button-down shirt. His wide eyes flickered to the empty plate in her hands, to her gaunt face. He lowered his head, and he said to her three words: “_You ungrateful bitch_.”

.

_Now_

He placed his hands on her waist and slid upwards, dragging the thin dress upwards. The fabric and the touch of his corpse skin repulsed her and she whimpered, fidgeted. Why did he not put her to sleep? Because he wished for her to _feel_ this time, was the answer.

“There she is,” he breathed, as he raised the shift off of her head. “Isn’t my sweetling hungry? She loves... stew, and warm bread. And sweet things.” He swallowed wetly. As he spoke, something pressed to her lips. Cool water flooded her mouth and she drank and drank. “You need have only asked, Rey.”

.

_Then_

His rage was something elemental. 

She had just enough time to hurl the plate at him before he had her by the throat. He dragged her out of the bedroom and threw her onto the bed. Her head bounced against the pillows. Her limbs scrabbled against the mattress for purchase.

“I had such high hopes for you,” he said shaking his hand at her. “Do you not remember when we met? How bravely you defended your friend?” His face twisted into contempt. “Where did that girl go? Because all I see, is a sniveling _pest_. A desert _rat_.” His teeth flashed.

Rey sat there frozen, afraid. Her legs trembled, her throat ached.

“Did I not provide you what you wanted?” he asked. “I have fed you, I have bathed you. I have kept you safe and given you books to read, but now you _abhor_ my company. You discard my food and my hospitality. You still want that filthy _were,_” he hissed. “This is more a home than that wincing boy ever gave to you, cowering in the woods.”

Finn’s face appeared before her eyes. “That is not true!” The vampire recoiled. Rey was taken aback at her own words, but she went on, “I would give anything to go back. You are a _monster_.”

“I cannot _control_ the behavior of my coven, but do you think that _he_ did any better?!” he snapped. “Those weres would have ripped you to pieces, and it was cruel of him not to have chased you off!”

“I am not talking about Finn!” 

“I am trying to _save_ you,” he said, his eyes flashing. “I am the most-. You-. The others, they—.”

“If there were humans out in the desert, I would rather die than lead you to them,” she confessed in a gush of words.

That silenced him. He turned away and he raised his hand to his mouth. A crack rent the air, and when he lowered his hand a fat bead of blood dribbled down from his third finger, where the nail bed had cracked. The vampire turned back to Rey, and his eyes were pure black. 

Like a waking nightmare, he crawled on hands and knees over the bed and over her small body, his mouth open, fangs extended. And he grabbed her jaw and buried his head into the crook of her neck. 

.

_Now_

Time grew stirry-blurry after that. Her period at last came on and twisted her insides, twisted him. Then it did not matter whether she was awake, or asleep when it came to feeding him. Her cunt hurt after. Bloody visits to the bathroom like episodes in a nightmare.

And it was just that: only a nightmare.

One day, he appeared to her, and he was Kylo Ren. They ate together, and they talked and it was as if everything was okay. He laughed and his face colored, and his touch warm, telling Rey that she was in yet another dream where he pretended to be a human man. But it was a nice dream.

This one, this one felt to be a bad dream, the ones where she couldn’t move and couldn’t do anything.

“You don’t remember,” he said. “You don’t remember it. I am not like the others,” he muttered, “or you would be — you would not be _here_.”

He stopped, a foot away from her bedside. 

His fingertips touched her brow, and they were cool this time, pleasantly so. She leaned into the touch.

“This fever needs to break,” he said gently. “I cannot order it to, Rey. The Force can heal many things, but _I_ cannot.” She knew she must be dreaming because he would never confess to something like that. “_You_ must break it yourself.”

He ran his fingers slowly over her hot, itchy scalp. She whimpered, until he brought his hand to her cheek. Again, that soothing cold. She breathed a sigh. Maybe, it was a nice dream after all.

“You are stronger than you know,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “When this is over, I will make you a home.” Another lie. “I promise.”

His touch left her. And the unbearable heat of her body returned, as if she were trapped in an oven. She shifted in the bed and kicked off the covers, and the icy chill returned, puckering her bare skin. She was wet all over. Her limbs twisted. With a sigh, he replaced the hot, damp covers over top of her. Instead, she reached out and caught his arm in her hand.

“... Oh,” he said. Then, “No, Rey, I should not.” Gently he pried off her fingers from his sleeves, but she pulled against him, insistently. 

The hated but necessary blankets lifted, and the mattress sank as he laid himself beside her. Rey reached for his hands and found his face, deliciously cool against her arms. After a moment, his inconvenient shirt slipped off, and that cold, hard skin touched hers. She wrapped her arms around his head and her legs around her torso, sighing, pleased. After a while he made a low sound in his throat which reverberated in her chest. He shifted until he found a position that was comfortable to himself, and then he stopped moving.

And Rey the human girl went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part II


	7. Spilled Milk

_We have wasted time_, he insisted. 

As the winter thawed, the vampire at last began to gather the troops necessary to his incursion South. General Hux would follow, along with a party of vampires. Phasma needed to stay with the castle to oversee the population of the Hatcheries, but she agreed at last to a body of fifty Stormtroopers. 

For each night the girl saw him, Kylo Ren flushed with pride at his turn in fortune. He suddenly found the time to bring her meals to her, and he tracked the books that she picked up from his shelves so that they could discuss them at the small wooden table in his quarters.

There were books as thick as bricks, with yellowed pages, and dialogue as gripping as a grocery list if she could read it at all. Rey could not read very well at all; she only had what she gleaned from her mother. Kylo Ren laughed at her as though she were a pup, and he would patiently explain a simile, a metaphor, a foreshadow, or a red herring. A Bildungsroman, a Romantic, a Modern, a Post-Modern, a Nihilism. Then his smile would strain. A World War, a Civil War, a President, a Judicial System, a Legislative Branch.

Rey tipped her head, her face heating. 

After a while he raised his eyes, and he said, “It is alright that you do not know the making of a law, pet. After all, I think I am one of four people who still bothers to remember it.” He raised a hand and tapped at his temple. “As always, I don’t mind explaining it to you.”

_Oh, does he_, she wondered. Rey had been curious about the human race, but not so much anymore. All those wars, all those dry institutions all dead and gone.

The vampire stared at her, with those dark eyes.

“Are you trying to read me again?” she asked. His brow crinkled. “I was wondering, Master, if you think that I'm stupid?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “There is so much accumulated history and knowledge, except human memory is so _short_. With no one to teach you, so you inherited only the dust on the wind.”

Rey frowned. “If my life is so short, then why bother to teach me anything?” she asked.

“There is more to you than you know,” he said gently. 

“But _what_ more is there?”

“You are resourceful,” he said. “You are strong. You are _beautiful_, to me.”

Rey kept silent. Beneath his gaze, her posture straightened. He did not like slouching.

He lowered his eyes, “My Grandfather intended for our race to _guide_ mankind, and nurture its better qualities. I see those qualities reflected in you.” 

Her brow furrowed. “Your _grandfather_?”

“Anakin,” said Kylo Ren, smiling. “You could say he laid the foundations of, this, _period_ that we live in. He loved humanity,” he insisted. “He took a human for his wife. Some even now attempt to sully his name, and I would rip out their tongues for it.” 

Her confusion doubled: who was Anakin? ”Was he a vampire, too?” Kylo Ren’s brow furrowed. He seemed as perplexed as she was. Rey nearly cried with frustration. This was the first portion of information that she had ever gotten about the end of the Old World. Normally he spoke of it like a natural disaster: a tragic inevitability, in the same way a were discussed a river breaking its banks or a lightning strike. Now she had suddenly been given a name.

Kylo Ren’s lip curled. “If you seek a cause for the destruction of your people, you need only turn to the weres,” he snapped. “It was _their excess_ that pushed us into these dire straits.”

That was not what Finn said. That was not at all what Finn said. “What do you...” 

He sat back in his seat, contempt twisting his features. His eyes darkened. “_Animals_,” he spat. “Vampirism has existed since Genesis; _their_ condition is more akin to a _freak mutation_, or a zoonotic disease.” He placed his hand beneath the table, and his fingers _grated_ against the wood. “It was the abundance of humans that kept them in check. They had only to wait for circumstance to tip the scale slightly in their favor.”

“That can’t be true!”

The grating stopped, and those black eyes focused on her.

“I've seen them!” she insisted. “My friend is a were! They can be violent, but only to hunt or for self-defense-.”

His brows furrowed. “Is that what they tell you?” he said gently. “They do not _torture_? They do not _rape_, sweet pet?”

Her throat tightened. She could feel that she had tread on a dangerous path. But there was so much more that she didn’t understand; the weres were not a perfect race, but there was no perfect race. Marginally they were better than vampires.

Kylo Ren’s expression softened. “Every creature that walks beneath the sun,” he said, “suddenly bemoans the loss of mankind. There is no more hope for shopping malls and entertainment devices, no more packed movie theaters or space launches. So they lay blame on myself and those in my coven. They forget the blood on their own hands: their own hatred for that species that once drove them into hiding. If the weres were so tolerant and good, why did your friend force you to hide in the woods?”

To protect her, from creatures like _you_.

“To protect you _from his own kind_,” he said, smiling. “Think. My brethren depend on blood-drinking to survive; what possible reason could we have to perform your genocide, except to kill ourselves in the long run?”

Rey faltered. 

In one smooth motion, he stood up from his chair. He stepped towards her and Rey shrank. He looked over her and placed a cool hand on her. He brushed away stray hairs and squeezed her gently by the collarbone, not enough to hurt but to let her know that he could. Her breathing stopped.

“It has been a long time since I’ve tasted you,” he said, simply.

Rey waited. Sweat broke out a long her brow. She refused to look at him. His touch did not move.

“I could be a great _friend_ to you,” he said tentatively. “I have no fur, and I am cold to the touch, but I am resourceful.” His thumb made curlicues against her skin.

Internally her stomach roiled with fear. Revulsion. But, he seemed intent on keeping her alive, and her quality of life had improved. Reluctantly, she tilted her head, and brushed away the tangled hair, to offer her neck to him. 

Rey waited, but her nerves anticipated a sharp, stinging tearing ripping pain. The muscles in her neck seized, and when she swallowed she could hear the audible click of her throat. It remained unsaid but he liked torture and he liked rape, though he pretended not to. He liked to cause pain. 

So she flinched when at last he touched her, something feather soft against her skin. Then the rough, wet texture of his tongue smoothed over her neck. Her insides fluttered from the sensation. She shifted her hips, except he assumed she were trying to escape — his hands gripped her shoulders and shoved her down in the seat. He groaned low in his throat. 

He bit down and the prey animal that lived inside of Rey leapt and screamed, _how could she do this to herself he was going to kill her going to tear her to pieces_. The tendons in her neck constricted, nerves alighting and she could feel the drain of her lifeblood which she had freely offered like an _idiot. _Tears spot her vision and a sob tore up her throat. She was going to die like a stuck pig, she was going to bleed out —

His fangs retracted and he had to shove himself away from her.

Rey sprung off the seat. She placed her hands protectively over her neck and felt warm, hot liquid. When she looked down at her hand she saw the red water on her hand and dribbling down her grey sundress. It was a nightmare again. Only a dream. If she had really lost that much blood she would be dead, she realized. The fear stuttered and went out, and she turned to where the vampire stood.

Blood dripped from his mouth and his hands and stained the chair. He looked to her, red webbing the whites of his eyes. His lips twitched. His gaze slowly roved over her, then back to her face. Slowly he licked his lips and said, “I need to heal you.”

After a while he raised a bloody hand and made a beckoning motion, and her feet dragged her towards him. “You _rejected_ me,” he said, his voice shaking. “It wasn’t, _supposed_ to hurt, my love.” 

Rey didn’t understand. She remembered offering him her neck. She remembered that he could feed without it hurting too much.

The chair slid out of the way. He licked his hands and wrists clean, watching her balefully. “Will you let me heal you?” he snapped accusingly. “You will die, if you do not.”

It took a moment to realize that she had a choice. Rey looked down and realized the red stain on her dress had reached her hip. His vampire shoes appeared across from her bare feet. She could sense him lean over her to lick at the boreholes he made in her neck. Her forehead came to a rest on his collarbone, where she could feel a slight, tremulous warmth.

Greedily he lapped at her bare shoulders, before gripping the dress in his hand and bringing it to his lips. He sucked the fabric noisily, lips pressed tight around the cloth, cheeks hollowed. When Rey dared to look at his face, his pupils had blown to hungry black pits. He looked like a were-pup, teething on a chewbone toy — no, something far more _desperate_. Rey herself knew it: hunger. She knew what it was to eat dandelions, scavenging across dead stripped homes. Her stomach clenched into a ball. Hiding, always. _Afraid, always_.

Surely it would be easier for him to feed off _weres_ they were so plentiful. He spoke as if this were not an option, but all this time she assumed it was only a matter of his _tastes_, not his _survival_. Could there be a measure of truth in what he told her?

Slowly, she raised her hands, and touched his hard abdomen. She threaded her arms around his waist, until her hands met behind his back. 

His eyelids fluttered. He lowered his hands and the fabric fell out of his mouth with a wet sound so it fell down to her chest, damp. He stepped out of her embrace, his dark eyes half-lidded.

“Now do you understand,” he croaked, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now do you understand what you are, to me, sweet _pet_?”

Rey faltered. She swallowed and she said, “I think I do.”


End file.
